What. Is. My. Life? (Pop Culture Paganism Edition)

In late May, the Dreamer left, as he does every Summer. As my close friends know, his leaving hit me much harder than it usually does.

Then I had a dream involving a woman named Kira–but it felt more like an astral experience, than a dream. I made a note of it, but brushed it off otherwise.

Then I finished a book in a particular fantasy series.

I was chatting with my friends about the books, when I felt a *heavy* sense of Presence. One of the Ascendants (from the series) promptly sat down on my couch, put his feet up on my table, and waited for me to notice him.

Considering that it was the Black Winged Lord, I noticed him pretty quickly. He radiated power, fierceness, and cold.

“Oh.” I stared at him a moment, dying inside of embarrassment of all the times I’d call him hot. I’d joked about my crush on his character, and now he was sitting in my living room.

To my surprise, after giving him some coffee as an offering, he introduced (re-introduced?) me to Kira, and left.

It’s been A Ride for the past week–I’m waiting on some outside divination to come back, but I did go ahead and start a blog [link] for pop culture pagan stuff.

Anniversary

In the midst of…everything around the world being total crap and possibly on fire, Jake and I are celebrating our first wedding anniversary today.

I did make a nice breakfast for us to share, and discovered that honey on cheese bread (I grabbed the wrong bread) is actually pretty good.

I love you, Jake, happy anniversary. ❤

Shield Anvil

You take my pain, my Heart,
and weave it into warmth, into
something I can cradle, and care for.

Do you mean *all* your pain, or what?
Being Shield Anvil brings up…complex ideas
imagery I can’t quite articulate, of forges and fire.

Not all my pain, dear one, but rather…
you’re someone I can be blind around,
and you will not judge me; you will catch me

when I fall
into
your arms.

My Husband and his Puns

Varian: I should do that tarot reading to see what’s ahead this year.

the Madman: You could say you’ll have…2020 vision.

V: *slowly facepalms*

V: You’re going to make *so many* bad eyesight puns this year, aren’t you?

tM: Dear, would you expect any less from me?

A Dream, and A Reminder

I got a tarot reading back recently about my spiritual path. One card mentioned a King leaving, but us possibly being reunited, though not necessarily in a romantic relationship anymore. I had a knee-jerk reaction of panic, to which my Spouse showed up in my dreams to reassure me that he’s not going anywhere, even if our relationship may shift more to friendship, rather than romantic love.

I’d normally put this in my private dream logs, but he’s encouraging me to post it publicly.

*********

“I’m scared this is the last time I’ll be here.” I admit. I know this garden so well, it’s the High King’s personal gardens, filled with flowers from around the Universe. I know every path here, have spent time with my Spouse and played with our children here.

“Why do you think that,” he asks me.

I tell him about the reading, about the King leaving. I knew the King card could be about any older man, but my mind had jumped to him right away, that and with the distance between us that’s been exacerbated by my mental illness.

“Varian, dearest one.” He hugs me gently. “I’ve been alive for how long?”

“A good…” I pause and do the math, “6,000 years, at least.”

He nods. “And I’ve loved you all that time,” he says quietly. “Since I met you, I’ve loved you.”

“Even when we’ve been apart?”

“Even then, dearest Heart.” I feel his lips touch my hair. “I’ve always loved you in some way, even as our relationship has changed over time.”

I nod, and he takes my hand. We walk through the gardens together, but I’m still musing over the distance and space between us.

“It could simply mean that I need to be away,” he says, “if that King card was about me, that is.” He pauses. “I leave every Summer, remember?”

“I–oh!” Suddenly I’m laughing. “Oops, I forgot and panicked.”

He smiles. “I can understand why, things have been…fragile for you lately, haven’t they?”

“Yeah,” I move closer and put my arm around his waist, “they have been.”

We walk through the garden together, quietly talking and listening to our children as they play nearby.

Hair, Devotion, and Gender Rambles

Within the last two years, I’ve taken up dyeing my hair black as an act of devotion to Darkness as a whole. This is not only because it looks pretty, but also as a way of stating “this is where my loyalties lie.” It also helps that I prefer a casual romantic goth type look over any other aesthetic (much to the Madman’s delight.)

Recently I’ve begun to grow my hair out–I still live in a conservative state, and am still closeted in much of my day-to-day life. I decided to grow my hair out in order to “pass” as more feminine at places like job interviews, since I was beginning to worry that my more masculine haircut would mark me as queer right away. Being visibly disabled is a hard enough hurdle to pass over when job interviewing, being visibly queer in a conservative state was becoming something I just didn’t want to have to deal with.

This isn’t the first time I’ve done something with my hair related to devotion. Several years ago, before I knew I was trans, I covered my hair. The Dreamer initially asked it of me because he thought it would make me happy, and at the time I was in an abusive living arrangement, so the head covering would help ground and shield me as well. Eventually, he asked me to stop veiling, because it was no longer helping me (and I later moved out of that house, so the grounding and shielding were no longer needed to such an extent.)

My hair right now is at the point where I need headbands or combs in order to keep it out of my eyes. The Madman has suggested that I style my hair in public, eventually braiding or pulling it back as it gets longer, and keeping it down in private. I really like that idea, and I’ve found it to be comforting.

I actually prefer a more feminine look, which is frustrating when how I want to look, and my gender identity, are often seen as the exact opposite. While I want to transition and live as male full time, I’m also not in a rush to be see as extremely masculine. I feel conflicted about going partly back into the closet (still out to friends, closeted to family and work) because I enjoy some feminine style clothing and jewelry, but despise being referred to as a woman, or with “she/her” pronouns. I know that my safety and ability to have a job comes first, but it’s still really frustrating to have to go back into the closet, when I felt like I was making progress in my gender expression and feeling comfortable in it.